


A Seat In The Car

by kethni



Series: Bad Things [9]
Category: Veep (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sappy, Sequel, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28880727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kethni/pseuds/kethni
Summary: She remembered that ride in the car. No Little Richard then of course. But more importantly no Kent.
Relationships: Kent Davison/Selina Meyer
Series: Bad Things [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/364298
Comments: 10
Kudos: 9





	A Seat In The Car

**Author's Note:**

> Four years ago today I posted the final chapter of "Laughing at Locksmiths" which ended with Selina's inauguration. 
> 
> Today felt like a good time to revisit that.

Selina didn’t believe in signs or portents or any of that stuff. She thought that astrology was ridiculous and fortune tellers were frauds. So, the heavy, continual rain felt less like an omen of doom and more like a massive pain in the ass.

Selina would have admitted if pressed that she wasn’t exactly the most… empathetic person. Not by nature and sure as shit not by experience. She spent most of her life surrounded by liars and assholes. Who wanted to know how _those_ people felt? Nonetheless, she could tell that the mood was kinda weird. She supposed that made sense. It had been a shitshow of a year and what do ya know, the fact that it was now a new year hadn’t magically changed everything. Plus, it was just a weird day. A day that was set up for things changing and transitioning, but they weren’t.

It was weird that it was weird. This was what normally happened, right? It would’ve been a hell of a rebuke if things had gone down differently. Sure, it had been a narrow thing on paper, in percentages, but in numbers of people it had been definitive enough. God, she couldn’t even imagine how badly she would had to fuck things up to have actually _lost_.

There was a tap on the door to the Oval Office, and then Kent peeped around.

‘Since when do ya knock?’ she asked.

‘Since you’re alone in here and I wasn’t sure what you might be doing,’ he said mildly.

She snorted. ‘Yeah, you’d like that. Wander in here and find me doing some weird shit like marching up and down with my panties on my head.’

Kent gave her a blank look for a moment. ‘That is rarely my initial assumption for what someone might be doing when they’re alone.’

‘Ya were watching a TV show and someone did that,’ she explained. ‘So, quit looking at me like I’m babbling crap, or I’ll have ya sent to Guantanamo.’

He smiled slightly. ‘Oh, yes. Well, he was sat down with his underwear on his head.’

‘That makes _all_ the difference,’ she said dryly.

‘And pencils up his nose,’ Kent said. ‘It was a ploy.’

Selina picked up a pencil and regarded it. ‘Nah,’ she said after a few seconds, and put it down. She drummed her fingers on the desk. ‘Is it time to go?’

‘Very nearly,’ he said.

She stood and took a deep breath. ‘Can ya believe that we’re doing this again?’

He smiled. ‘And this time you have the House.’

‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Oh, Jeez, I might actually push through important legislation.’

Kent touched her hand with his fingertips. ‘I’m proud to… to be here. With you.’

She felt herself flushing. ‘There is literally nothing I can say to that which isn’t gonna be sappy and gross and –’

Kent kissed her softly. ‘I apologise for being sappy and gross.’

She smiled. ‘And ya ruined my lipstick.’

‘Oops,’ he said, unrepentantly.

***

The rain had stopped but it would take a while for the rushing waters to be swept away. The town cars glided through the streets, spraying water as they went. Through the darkened glass Selina could see the crowds who had chosen to brave the weather.

Little Richard gurgled as he waved through the glass. Catherine bounced him on her knee as Marjorie watched with the tiniest faint smile that said more from her than a beaming grin would have said from anyone else.

Kent took Selina’s hand in his. His hands were far larger than hers, but they weren’t clumsy or brutish. He held her hand with a natural, automatic gentleness. Not taking control or showing ownership. He held her hand as if he wanted to feel the warmth of her touch and to share his warmth with her. His thumb stroked the back of her hand.

His wedding ring glinted in the dull light. She had picked that out herself. She hadn’t known why that was important. Not gold but platinum. The jeweller had told her that men’s wedding bands with discreet diamonds were very much the fashion, but she had said no. It wasn’t him. Even without asking, she knew that wasn’t him. Besides, whatever would his biker buddies say if he showed up wearing a ring with gems?

‘What?’ Kent asked.

‘I didn’t say anything.’

He shrugged. ‘You were sniggering.’

‘I was not!’ she protested.

‘Yes, you were,’ Marjorie confirmed.

Selina rolled her eyes at Kent. ‘Did ya get a haircut?’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Yes, this morning. _Someone_ was dropping a lot of hints about it being too long and it would ruin the official photographs.’

Selina ignored the teasing tone. ‘It looks better. You’re not Jeff Bridges.’

‘Wow,’ Catherine said. ‘That’s very nearly almost a pop culture reference.’

Selina ignored her.

‘I don’t like it,’ Kent admitted. ‘However, the day isn’t about me. I have no desire to distract attention from you or make you feel that any photographs are subpar.’

‘It’s a little bit about you,’ Selina said. ‘First Gentleman.’

He groaned. It was an appellation that had long since worn thin, and he hadn’t liked it much to begin with.

‘That’s not my job,’ he said. ‘Catherine fulfils all the functions traditionally associated with the First Lady admirably.’

‘Oh, thank you,’ Catherine said, as surprised as ever by any hint of praise.

‘Yeah, I know,’ Selina said. ‘God, Andrew would’ve been all over that. He’d have been the patron of dozens of charities all of them with events and parties.’

‘Fundraisers,’ Marjorie said. She didn’t say, “and all the funds end up in Andrew’s bank accounts” but they all heard it loud and clear.

‘Is it a problem?’ Kent asked Selina. ‘Is that what you want from me?’

She shook her head. ‘No, no. That’s not _you_. It’s all such sexist bullshit. Oh, these women with ambition can’t actually have jobs that fulfil their ambitions, so they’ll have to marry some guy and ride on his coattails.’

Kent squeezed her hand.

Little Richard said something. God knew what. Kids that age spoke as much as senators and made about as much sense. Selina looked through the window. Maybe he was saying “sunshine.” The clouds had retreated, allowing weak sunshine to warm the sky. It had been sunny on her first inauguration, four long years ago.

She remembered that ride in the car. No Little Richard then of course. But more importantly no Kent. He had been banished to travel and to sit with the other staffers. As if he was just some employee. As if he didn’t matter. 

Selina smiled, and squeezed his hand tightly.

‘Are you okay?’ Kent asked softly.

‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I’m just thinking. I’m glad this time ya get a seat in the car.’

The End


End file.
